Chosen Path
by Missmishka
Summary: Nasir from episode 2x05 onward with the choices he feels he must make.  Nasir/Agron SLASH. Part 3/3 uploaded. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm new to the Spartacus realm, but am compelled to write by what I have seen on the series of Agron and Nasir. This series starts in 2x05 and will continue (eventually) from there. I should probably have written it all out and posted as a complete series, but I'm a sucker for instant gratification and cannot resist posting pieces as soon as they're purged from my mind. There is no BETA and there will be slash. I hope you enjoy. :)

**_Chosen Path, by MissMishka_**

DISCLAIMER: The usual warnings, I claim no ownership of these characters, they are simply borrowed with love and adoration from the original creators to have their stories embellished on a little more than the show may do. Not for any profit.

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><p>The cot is soft and his body aches at leaving it, but his duty is not done until he has seen Naevia reunited permanently with Crixus. Nasir knows of the planning taking place as he lies about and senses the urgency in the temple as preparations are made for whatever plan to be set in motion.<p>

Nasir stumbles from the bed and moves weakly along the corridors until he finds their voices.

He listens enough to the exchange between Naevia and Spartacus to glean an idea of the mission and leans briefly against the wall to fortify himself before he makes his presence known. It will not do for them to see him toddling weak as a babe among their mighty ranks.

With a deep, bracing breath he pushes from his support, holds tightly to his aching torso and stands as straight as the tightly drawn wound will allow.

"Where do we go?"

Spartacus exhibits no surprise at his presence, but there is one body among the gathering that tenses upon hearing his voice.

"Nasir?"

The German turns to verify with his eyes what his ears had heard and those bright blue orbs shine with delight at seeing him up from his sickbed.

Agron's smile is joyous as he approaches and Nasir has never known nor seen such simple emotion, without artifice or manipulation.

Touching was something that he was growing used to from this man; Agron seeming to be a very physical person in all regards. When he was happy he laughed and slapped your back in a friendly fashion. When the Viking was angry, he snarled and laid fist to whatever part of you that failed to get out of the way in time.

Nasir was not certain what this was, though, the way the man ran to him to cup his jaw and stroke his cheek.

It is a touch of care and concern; so gentle from a giant.

Nasir has never known the like of it. He has witnessed several gestures of affection among these people, an endless source of surprise when these were the supposed brutes of the world and bastards like his Dominus were the elite.

He knew not what to do with the rough hand that so gently held his cheek. Nor those bright eyes that met his with a want of emotion so much purer than the lustful depravity Nasir had grown used to as a slave.

"Give me a sword," he turns from that mesmorizing gaze to the sterner stare of Spartacus. "I will join you."

"I will have you rested a while longer," their leader decrees.

Before Nasir can decide if he is offended or relieved by the command a flex from the fingers upon his face makes him turn back to Agron.

The big man is bent over, putting himself at Nasir's level and emphasizing the gap in their heights with the well intentioned gesture. Those blue eyes stare piercingly into his own; those battle worn fingers toy with the strands of hair behind his ear.

"This time you stay and I go."

The words are gently chiding and Nasir cannot help but grin, thinking this another lesson his new friend wished him to learn about being a soldier. Something changes in Agron's eyes, though, as they catch sight of that grin.

A kiss was supposed to be a kiss all the same. The mechanics where just the pressing of one mouth to another; some crueler than others and drawing blood, but ultimately just a kiss. Nasir has thought himself to be well versed in kissing; skilled in it even. Yet a tingle begins in the lips graced by Agron's mouth and it spreads like fire through Nasir's body. Not an all consuming wildfire, just a slow burn that warmed him in places he had not known to be cold and dark.

Nasir has never kissed nor been kissed in such a manner before.

It is one of the briefest contacts he has ever known, but it has touched him more than any gesture of his life.

He knows not how to convey that or whether he even wants the man to know it.

"We must move."

Spartacus's command spares Nasir the need to do or say anything as Agron is forced to obey their leader.

There is a promise and a question in those eyes, though, as Agron pulls his hand away. As he watches the big man join the others and begin to depart, cold begins to seep back into Nasir at the loss of that touch.

He will have a choice to make when the German returns and the fact that it will be _his choice_ is something Nasir was still coming to terms with. Joining the ranks of Spartacus's rebellion had not been an easy decision to reach, but Nasir felt no regret at it, no matter the pain of his injury from the Roman sword to his gut.

Much has happened in his brief time among these people. Changes have taken place in his world and within his person that Nasir never would have fathomed possible in his life. Options were presenting themselves to paths he must journey of his own judgement.

It is a daunting and fearful task for one who had been enslaved for so long. The collar had been removed, but he still felt the weight of it.

In the absence of Agron he would have to decide the path he would walk with that man. It would be left to Nasir to determine if theirs was to be a friendship, holding one another only as a fellow brother-in-arms or if they were to cross those bounds of friendship into more intimate ties.

The idea of more kisses the like of which he had just been left with was as luring as it was terrifying. Thoughts of Agron's hands upon his body had been haunting Nasir since the night the man had stormed into his life and Spartacus had flipped his world on end. He knew the mechanics of being mounted by another man; the stretch and burn of invasion of a recess not meant for such things, but the pleasure that could come of it, even with one a detested partner, was something of a marvel to him. Codpieces were always over exaggerated and he had yet to see the German naked so Nasir could not help but wonder at the size and strength of Agron's cock.

His want of that knowledge was without doubt. His want of more kisses and caresses from that man was without question in his mind.

Despite the pain of his injuries, the thoughts of such intimacy with Agron stirred Nasir to an arousal that would soon become visible if he were unable to gain control of his rampant thoughts. After that fleeting caress of lips that alluded to what a truer kiss could do, Nasir's body was certain that what it knew of fucking would be proven false in the German's bed. Mind and body were in agreement that they would welcome and enjoy Agron as a lover.

The only choice he struggled with was how to protect his heart as he sensed it falling into that trap called love.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Belatedly I note that the grammar in this story is often broken, deliberately so, as I'm trying to write it in the same fashion the show speaks. There are slight variances in the dialog on the show that I hope to properly use in my own writing of the characters' thoughts and speech. Gratitude to all who read and review. :)

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><p>"It is in such unexpected gestures they win our hearts."<p>

Naevia's quiet observation broke through Nasir's thought and made him to realize the sight of Agron's form had long faded from the horizon. Yet they had stayed there, leaning upon one another and staring after the handful of rebels that would see Crixus freed.

Her words echo Nasir's own thinking and he hopes for them both that this mission will be swift and successful.

"The first time Crixus kissed my lips with such love it was as if the world both turned on its axis and settled all to rightness. I've never known the like of such a feeling within myself."

Nasir turns to her curiously, instinctively smiling back at the soft smile she seemed to unconsciously bestow upon him; but within, he frowned.

He processes her observation slowly as they shuffle back to his sickbed. The effort of leaving that berth left him leaning against the woman more than he cared to, but she placed herself there beneath his shoulder for just such a purpose.

Never would he regret his choice to save this person that he had known only by rumor before rescuing Naevia from the mines. Though he had feared it may cost him the bond that had been forming with Agron, Nasir had followed his own judgment in confessing to Crixus the truth of what the fallen Roman had said of this slave's fate. Even if that confession had led to his own death, Nasir would have felt no regret at the world he left behind so long as this rare gem was allowed to still shine.

It is evident to any with eyes or ears that this female is a rarity among all creatures and the Gaul's devotion to her was just. To bear witness to a true reunion of these parted lovers would be a gift from the Gods. He hopes it not too much to ask of those Gods that he be allowed a similar rejoining of his German's company once this plan saw fruition.

"You react as if struck speechless by the gesture," Naevia's speaking draws his mind again from wander. "Surely Agron has not been so sparing in his affections to have not kissed you before now."

"Agron is quite generous with his gestures," Nasir defends instantly. "He simply had not led me to believe his sentiment more than friendly."

She huffs out a doubtful laugh and he shambles to a stop to look at her in surprise at her doubt. Her dark eyes meet his with concern at the sudden halt then move over his features with surprise dawning in her gaze.

"Apologies," her eyes lower and all trace of smile fades from her expression as they resume their slow trek. "I must have mistaken his devotion to you as a sign of more lengthy a bond. Perhaps it is that it reminds me so of love recently lost in tragedy and treachery. Barca and Pietros. The fondness they had shared for one another had been inspirational to many at the ludus."

He knew fault for said tragedy to lie at the feet of the Syrian that had soured the views of many from the ludus and did not comment on the mention of this pairing. His mind instead lingers upon a single word she had said.

"Devotion?"

It is she now who brings them to a stop to stare in puzzlement as they near his chamber.

Her gaze seems to be turned inward for a moment before understanding visibly dawns and the smile returns to her lips.

"I forget you have not been fully aware of much as you heal," her eyes drop with apology to the bandages upon his stomach. "Agron has been faithful in tending to you when not called to plan with Spartacus. It was he who would relieve me each night to rest while he watched over and bathed you through your fever. His eyes and hands as I witnessed them upon you held such care and concern, I thought it reciprocated."

"This is the first I am coming to know of such things," Nasir confesses. "I am not certain myself capable of reciprocating them."

_Or worthy of them with such a man, _Nasir thinks in conclusion.

"It is hard to believe happiness possible for ourselves," she muses, gleaning his thoughts. "Years of service to the want and ways of Dominus and Domina give us little ability to envision simple things for ourselves. When the heart has found its mate, though, the mind and body will always find their way to that partner."

Considering his fears for the safety of said organ, Nasir thinks over her words carefully as he is able to finally resettle his healing body back upon bed. She moves to help him, ensuring he does nothing to set back his recovery, and he is glad of her assistance.

He hopes to be able to call this woman friend after the fashion in which their acquaintances have been met.

To that end, as they seem to be sharing confessions of the heart, he speaks up when she would have left him to rest.

"There is much I see both you and Crixus endure for all this talk of hearts. Is it worth it?"

She pauses on the threshold she had reached and he sees her weighing the possible answers carefully before she turns to face him.

"When I thought him gone from me…there are no words for such agony. To have been given hope that he lives….I have no words for such joy," the emotion shimmers in her eyes as he can see her relieving those feelings. "That I might possibly have him returned to me, no matter the condition…," she blinks moisture from her eyes and meets his gaze without flinching. "We have paid much for a dream that we may someday be together without outside interference and I find myself at this moment willing to pay whatever additional cost may be required to have my heart restored to me."

She leaves him with those words and there is a reflexive thud from the organ within his chest at thoughts stirred by her conviction. Visions of Agron fill his head as Nasir drifts back to slumber and the Syrian knows what he will do should the Gods see the German returned to him.


	3. Chapter 3

Nasir's ears are so tuned for the return of those from Capua that he hears them well before the others. His still shuffling gait carries him through the passages near the entrance as the shout in the yard sounds over the noise of conversations and chores.

"They live!"

Relief and worry crash over him at the announcement, giving him need to pause against a nearby wall and regain his balance. The words mean that the Spartacus has returned; it could be erroneous to assume that Agron has made it through the mission without injury. Once he pushes into the open atop the stairs, he will know with certainty the fate of his German and the idea causes his heart to thud with mixed emotions.

Then he hears it, over the outbursts of questions from the others.

"The arena has burnt to fucking ground," a blissfully familiar voice decrees, "with many Romans among the ashes!"

He resumes his steps hurriedly toward the voice of Agron, needing to see the man's body intact to accompany those boastful words. The news of Rhaskos's death is still ringing in the air as Nasir moves into sight of the German. Seeing that large, broad body standing strong over the yard with no bloodstains upon the back of his covering is enough to encourage hope.

"You suffer no wound?"

His question draws Agron around to face him and there is no blood upon the front of the man. That expression, eyes alight and mouth smiling with joy, overtakes the other man's face and Nasir feels certain his face shows a similar delight.

"The Gods favor me, little man," Agron declares, approaching softly.

The nickname is one Nasir is certain he will hear often and the affection with which it is spoken warms him, but it will not do to have this man think he could get away with such words if they are to be lovers.

"Call me that again and they shall turn from you," he warns.

Agron shows no worry at the threat and Nasir's widening grin upon delivering it surely makes light of the words, but he cares not. His German has returned to him unharmed. The Gods have shown favor to them both.

He laughs with the knowledge, feeling no hesitation as his hands rise to take hold of Agron's face and the German's do the same. The big man does not have to bend as far as he had for the parting kiss that had set Nasir's world on end for the Syrian pushes up happily to meet the lips moving toward his own.

All doubts are removed from within him as their mouths meet. His heart lifts and blood races hotly through vein at the press of strong lips upon his own.

The force of his want and joy in this reunion is enough to withstand the full weight of Agron as the German puts his whole being behind the kiss.

It weakens the knees to feel such passion upon him, but Nasir would blame his wound for the sudden need he feels to cling to the other man. The roughness of stubble gives way to smooth, heated skin as the Syrian's hands move from face to shoulder for better support.

The need for breath forces him to draw back for but a moment and Agron presses their foreheads together as they each draw breath back into their lungs. Their eyes lock and all traces of humor fade from the German's face as hunger overtakes the man's expression. A tremor of want runs along Nasir's spine, straight to his hardening cock at such a look upon Agron's face.

"How fares your wound?"

Concern flashes for a moment in those blue eyes as they look upon his bandages, a hand moving from Nasir's jaw to rest tenderly on his side; near, but careful not to touch the injury.

"It improves daily," he confesses, wincing when battle-roughened fingertips venture closer to the bandages.

"But has not healed," Agron concludes ruefully, the wince put a damper to the lustful expression in the man's eyes. "Oenomaus will need your bed."

Nasir's head turns toward the chamber to which Spartacus and the others had carried a wounded man.

"That was Oenomaus?"

_**The**__ Oenomaus_?

"His injuries are grievous, but if any a man can recover from the like of them it would be him. You will have honor to meet him upon his recovery."

The respectful way Agron made his statement matched the reverence with which all the Gladiators had ever spoken of their Doctore. Knowledge that such a man had been brought low in their battle made sharp the fear that Nasir had felt for his German's fate. Any and all man could suffer great loss in the arena.

"Your wound will still need proper bedding for rest and healing," Agron says, reclaiming Nasir's attention. "I should see your things placed within my chamber to aid in that purpose."

Embers still burn in the big man's gaze, leaving the Syrian to wonder how much rest he is likely to find in sharing pallet with Agron. A smile return's to Nasir's lips at the thought.

"I shall retrieve them shortly."

Agron accepts the words and grin with a bark of laughter that matches the celebratory air in the temple. His arms wind around Nasir's waist, forming strong bonds that lift the Syrian from his feet. There is pain in his gut from the protesting scar still forming over wounded flash, but the kiss distracts mind from such twinges of the flesh. Tongue and teeth clash as lips part in a hungrier meeting; foretelling of the pleasures he is soon to find in sharing this man's sleeping quarters.

When the need for air separates their mouths once more, Nasir rests his chin against the crook of Agron's neck and shoulder. His eyes open to look out among these people he has joined and beyond the back of his German he watches as Crixus begins to mount the steps.

The air seems to shift around them all as the Gaul moves with a single purpose evident to them all and Agron slowly lowers Nasir to the ground. He keeps his arm around the German's shoulder as they both turn to watch as Naevia runs into the embrace of her lover.

It is too private and intimate a scene to witness once the two kiss and Nasir drops his gaze respectfully from them, feeling a great joy for Naevia's happiness found.

"Your mission has proven quite successful," he observes, turning from the nearby reunion.

"He lives," Agron grunts, his dislike of the Gaul evident as always.

Nasir gives the big man reason to grunt again by plying elbow to stomach as he lowers the arm he had had around Agron's shoulder.

The grudges this man seems to keep were not surprising, but it would always amaze Nasir that Agron bore no such rancor towards him. Much would be different had the Syrian done as Agron ordered and kept his tongue about Naevia's true fate; lives lost in battles that perhaps need not have been. Aside, though, from the "fucking Syrians" comment that had been delivered without hatred, Nasir has known only affection from the German for the choices he has made.

As all are given to witness the display of love from Crixus as he is finally given reunion with his woman, Nasir rethinks his earlier thought at the success of the mission. The Gods had not cast favor upon Agron alone or on their relationship to see the German returned to Nasir intact.

On this day, the Gods have favored love to know triumph after many events of loss and defeat for these people. Nasir is but one of the lucky few to have found blessing of such love in this time and place.

**_~End~_**


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